


The Beast Howls in My Veins

by ohmytheon



Series: daemons and alchemy [12]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Daemons, F/M, Gen, Mustang's Team, Team as Family, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not very often that Riza's wolf daemon Wojciech howls or Roy's lion daemon Shula roars, but the first times that men on the team hear them is something they're likely to never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this got away out of hand. And it’s going to be a two-parter. I was going to write two small parts and put them both here, but then this one got decidedly long as hell, so I figured I’d just split them up since the second one will probably be just as long. This one will be about Wojciech while the second one will be about Shula.

As intimidating as Wojciech was, he never howled. Hiroko howled here and there and barked a good amount, but Wojciech only ever growled. Of course everyone on the team was curious, but not nearly as much as Hiroko and Sumati were. After all, they were the only other canines on the team. Sumati rarely howled, if only because she claimed to not like it, but Hiroko always teased that it was because she was embarrassed by her howl. That little bit of teasing had gotten Havoc and Breda into an argument, which ended abruptly when Riza and Wojciech stepped into the room.

Still, Havoc couldn’t help but be curious about what it’d sound like if Wojciech howled. The wolf daemon was appropriately terrifying when he wanted to be. Oh sure, he could grin like a dog and loll his tongue, wag his tail and innocently raise his eyebrows, but there was no dog in those large paws and gleaming teeth. Whereas Hiroko’s eyes were a gentle brown color, Wojciech’s golden gaze was sharp and piercing. Hiroko’s howl was so low and mournful, starkly contrasting with her bright and chipper personality. Wolves were known for howling though, weren’t they?

For the most part, Havoc didn’t think about it until they’re on a mission. It was part of his and his daemon’s job to alert the team if something came up. He and Riza were either stationed on opposite ends, parked with their sniper rifles, or he was in the thick of it. Hiroko howled if something changed in the situation.

Havoc was currently perched on top of a roof, looking through the scope of his rifle. Hiroko laid at his side, her head on her paws, as she looked down at the street. Most daemons would’ve been terrified to be so close to the edge, but it had never bothered her. It was what made him a good sniper. He and Riza were unique in the fact that they were snipers without an avian daemon.

Didn’t mean she had brilliant eyesight though. “What’s going on down there? Is everything okay?”

“So far, so good,” Havoc reassured her.

Hiroko harrumphed. While they were used to being placed in a sniper position, they were not used to Riza placed right in the line of fire. Unfortunately, the buyer for the guns that they had managed to swipe expected a female arms dealer and that left only Riza as the option to go undercover. Havoc spotted Wojciech curled under the table at her feet, trying to look as small as possible. It was possible, if one didn’t look carefully, to mistake him for a husky dog. A wolf daemon would make anyone uneasy.

Despite the fact that she was typically hidden away in a sniper nest, Riza was a natural at field work as well. After given a script and other information, she easily slipped into the role of arms dealer. After all, if anyone knew guns, it was Riza. She didn’t need Falman’s encyclopedia knowledge on weapons. He watched through the scope and listened over the headset as she spoke about the specs and details to the buyer, some wannabe militant anarchist from West City named Forrester. She looked so casual sitting at a small table at the outside seating of a bistro. Wojciech looked downright lazy and uninterested.

Sweeping his scope about, Havoc found Breda and Mustang playing a game of chess in the park across the street from the bistro. Sumati sat at Breda’s side while Shula hung off to the left at a bench, looking for all the world like she was someone else’s daemon. Sitting on the inside of the bistro near a window was Falman, pretending to read a book while he drank a cup of coffee and ate lunch, his tabby cat daemon Ayn looking as bored as Wojciech. Fuery was sitting behind him, making sure the comms worked properly, his Ada humming under her breath.

“Target’s on the move,” came Falman’s low voice over the comm. Havoc swung his scope back to watch as Riza and Forrester stood up from their seats.

The man had a Weimaraner daemon, which Hiroko took personal offense to, as she loathed it when canine daemons belonged to bad guys. Most people assumed that people with dog daemons were trustworthy, but they had learned a long time ago that a person’s daemon didn’t always tell the truth about who that person was. His daemon stood up and stretched, eyeing Wojciech as he slowly slinked out from underneath the table. It was impossible to hide his immense size now, but he seemed to fold in on himself in an attempt to not look so threatening. After a few more brief words, Forrester and his daemon followed Riza and Wojciech around to the alley where they were holding the guns in an unmarked van.

Mustang hadn’t liked that. He’d wanted at least one person in the van when she went to do the exchange, if only because there was little to no vision into the alley, but the gun runner they’d captured explained that she never brought anyone with her to a buy. It was part of her spiel. Little to no loose ends. How she hadn’t managed to get herself killed was beyond Havoc, but then she had nearly blown them to bits with a rocket launcher when they had been trying to apprehend her.

“Lost visual,” Breda announced.

“Do you have an eye on her, Havoc?” Mustang asked. His voice was cool, but Havoc thought there was a sharp edge to it. He was clearly uncomfortable with not being able to see Riza himself. Havoc didn’t have to look to know that Shula was swishing her tail irritably. “Havoc?”

After a moment of moving around, Havoc answered, “I got her, I got her.”

But before Mustang could even finish sighing in relief, Havoc started and swore when the buy suddenly went south. Judging from his words, Forrester decided that he didn’t want to pay for the weapons and decided to take discount. Before anyone could react, two other men came up from around the van and Riza was thrown headfirst into the side of the van and then tossed inside. She hadn’t even managed to get a shot off, the gun knocked out of her hands. At the sight, Hiroko jumped up and let out a loud howl, giving a warning to the team that something had gone wrong. Down in the alley, Wojciech immediately moved to attack, no longer trying to hide, but was forced to a sudden halt when a semi-automatic was pointed at him. If he died, then Riza died.

“What’s going on?” Mustang demanded. “Lieutenant, what’s happening? Hawkeye, do you read me? Shit, Havoc, do you see her?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, Havoc squeezed off a shot, hitting one of the new men right in the kneecap. The man went down, howling in pain and horror, as he watched his comrades jump into the van and drive off without him. Havoc shot at the van, trying to hit one of the tires, but it ricocheted off the bumper.

“Havoc-?”

“She’s been taken hostage in the van!” Havoc shouted as he jerked himself to his feet. “They made a left on Kent, going south and fast!”

“We’re in pursuit now!” Breda called. They must have leapt into Mustang’s car the second that they heard a struggle over the comms. Havoc could only wonder what Breda had said to convince Mustang to get in the car and not go chasing after them on foot like a bat out of hell.

Havoc ran to the other side of the building, leaping over Fuery and his equipment. Hiroko reached the other end of the roof before he did, letting out another howl as he crouched into a quick position and let off another shot at the van as it sped away. “Shit! Right on Wilton, heading east! They’re out of my line of sight.”

He almost missed it through the scope, but then he spotted a gray blur out of the corners of his eyes and realized that Wojciech was chasing after them. The van could only go so fast, considering the traffic and the size of the vehicle. Cars were forced to come to a skidding halt as Wojciech weaved his way through traffic, dodging trucks and running at a speed he couldn’t possibly manage for long.

And then, without stopping, Wojciech let out the most soul-wrenching howl that Havoc had ever heard in his life. It started low, like a rumble of thunder, going higher and higher until it was almost more of a whine. Hiroko could be loud when she howled, but it was nothing on Wojciech. Havoc was almost certain that his heart stuttered as Wojciech howled. He had never heard something so painful in his life. And then he gasped, understanding hitting him full force. Forrester and his accomplice had only taken Riza; they hadn’t bothered to fight her wolf daemon.

They were literally dragging Riza away from her soul; the amount of pain the two of them must have been incredible. Every bit of distance put between him and Riza was dragging that howl out of Wojciech.

“Visual on the van,” Breda said, his voice shaky over the line, probably due to having heard Wojciech’s howl himself. “Driving north on Hill. Where the hell are they going?”

“I don’t give a damn,” Havoc growled as he searched through his scope again. They were probably trying to escape the vehicle behind them, but they hadn’t a clue who had been shooting at them earlier or where. They were doing him a solid, heading right back into his sight, and he grinned when he spotted them again. Hiroko pressed the top of her head into his back, her belief in him resonating so strongly throughout their bond. “Gotcha.”

This time, his shot hit right on the money, blowing the passenger front tire. After swerving around for a moment, the van came to a halt upon hitting a fire hydrant, creating an impromptu water fountain. The driver wasn’t even out of the van for longer than two seconds before Havoc shot him in the knee. The back of the van was kicked open, but Forrester must have thought better to try to escape as Wojciech reared up, snapping and snarling like a wild animal. Havoc almost cringed as he watched the van shake about once Wojciech jumped inside. It probably wasn’t a pleasant scene.

By the time Breda and Mustang pulled up to the scene, Mustang barely waiting for Breda to stop the car before leaping out of it, Riza was staggering out from the back of the van. There was blood on her head from where she’d been shoved into the metal paneling, but other than that, she looked more pissed than anything else. Wojciech rubbed at her and she clung to him with one hand as Mustang and Shula worried over them. It looked like Shula was struggling herself to not leap right onto Riza out in broad daylight. Havoc noted the blood on Wojciech’s snout. Hopefully Forrester’s daemon was still alive.

“We’ve got her,” Breda said, seeing as how Mustang was in no shape to talk to anyone but Riza. “Forrester and his accomplice are in custody. Falman?”

“I apprehended the one in the alley.”

Breda chuckled, though there was still tension in his voice. “Aw, Falman made his first arrest on his own.”

Havoc sighed and pulled the scope away from his eye. He all but stumbled backwards and fell on his ass, relief washing over him. Riza was safe. She was with Wojciech again. The criminals were in custody. Fire hydrant and a civilian car crash aside, the mission had been a success. They could pat each other on the back and go home knowing that the job had been done.

Hiroko pressed into him, slipping her head under his arm so that she was almost in his lap. “Wojciech’s howl… It sounded so…”

“Furious?”

“Tragic,” Hiroko finished, shivering against him. “I never want to hear it again.”

Havoc wrapped his arms around his daemon and closed his eyes. If Wojciech only howled like that, then neither did he. Honestly, he didn’t want to imagine what else could cause the stoic wolf to howl so painfully.


	2. Roar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote half of this a while ago, but then got distracted by a few other things...like normal. I finally sat down to finish it tonight. I'm not exactly happy with it, but now that it's written, I'm done. I am pleased about writing from Falman's POV, which I haven't done since the last scene of my first Royai daemon AU fic, "rummaging in our souls". His daemon is secretly one of my favorites.

It’s always kind of funny to see his Ayn standing next to Shula, if only because she’s so tiny compared to the lion. Not that she acts like it, of course. As for as Ayn is concerned, she’s as large and fierce as Shula, even if she is only a tabby cat. Falman never corrects her because he knows all he’ll get is a flick of her tail in his face and a sharp glare. And so he doesn’t say anything or even blink when Ayn plants herself in front of Shula, back arched and hair raised, hissing like she’s the most terrifying animal in the world.

Like they’re not the ones being held at gunpoint, Breda isn’t bleeding from a bullet graze, and Mustang isn’t being held hostage with a gun to his temple.

No, Ayn doesn’t care about that. She will not be tame. She is as wild as Shula and Wojciech in this moment.

Shula, for her part, is tensely quiet, her golden eyes locked onto Mustang, standing completely still except for her tail slowly swishing side to side. Falman thinks it’s the most dangerous he’s ever seen her. Shula has such a large presence, not just concerning her physical size, and a melodious voice, but it’s easy to forget how terrifying she can be when she makes bad jokes and takes naps everywhere in the office. Now though, she looks ready to maul the man holding her human, daemon taboos be damned.

Hawkeye is just as tense at Falman’s side and looks about as dangerous as well. She has a gun trained on the man holding a gun to Mustang’s head, but she doesn’t have a clear enough shot. Falman doesn’t have her or Havoc’s shooting skills, but he knows that at least. He knows because she would’ve shot the man already if she did have a decent angle. Wojciech is the only one that isn’t still. He prowls side to side, teeth bared, his growl a low rumble. For once, he’s not the only wolf. The man’s wolf daemon is almost all black and has a vicious gleam to her. Falman knows that this will only end in blood.

“Lower your weapons!” the hostage taker demands.

“Fuck that,” Havoc grounds out from Falman’s other side. His Hiroko snorts, shaking her head like the man is an idiot. He has to be one if he thinks that he and his three comrades are going to get out of this unscathed.

Hawkeye doesn’t say a word. Wojciech practically sneers. The only word Falman can think of is  _ terrifying _ .

Shula is all quiet. She doesn’t blink or look away from Mustang.

One of the man’s cohorts waves his gun around. “We have your leader captive! I don’t think you have a choice.”

“I can’t believe you let yourself get caught,” Wojciech harrumphs, like they aren’t in the middle of a stand off.

Mustang, bleeding from a head wound, manages to crack a smile, his eyes flickering away from Shula to Wojciech for just a moment. “We all have our bad days.”

When Wojciech takes a step closer towards them, the man’s black wolf daemon steps forward and snaps furiously, his jaws too close to Ayn for Falman’s comfort. It takes everything in Falman to not drop his gun and lean down to scoop Ayn into his arms. She would’ve resented him for at least a week if he did that. Ayn knows how to hold grudges and she’s not above doing it to her own human if she deems it necessary.

“Let him go,” Shula says in a cool voice, speaking for the first time since they entered the building, “or else.”

“Or else what?” the hostage taker’s wolf daemon barks, laughing callously. She has a huskier voice than Shula, closer to Wojciech’s. Falman wonders briefly if it’s a wolf daemon thing. He’ll have to look that up later.

Wojciech’s gaze turns to Shula, like he’s questioning her about what he should do, but the lioness daemon isn’t looking at him. All her focus is still on Mustang. Under normal circumstances, Shula probably would’ve let a smirk cut at her face. It’s what Mustang would do, after all. Most daemons can’t express themselves so easily, but canine, feline, and primate daemons have special talents in that area. Falman has come to recognize his team’s daemons body language for what they mean. Shula’s non-reaction warns him that something bad is brewing in her mind.

_ Get back here, _ Falman tells Ayn, not wanting her to be smack dab in the middle of what feels like is going to be a fight between a bunch of very large daemons.

Ayn irritably flicks her tail in response and ignores him. Stubborn, little cat. How did he manage to get her?

There’s no warning to the sudden attack. To be honest, Falman was fully expecting Shula to leap onto the wolf daemon. Instead, there’s a flash of grey and Wojciech leaps onto Mustang and his captor, knocking the both of them to the ground. The taboo of a daemon touching another human is enough to startle the crook into not reacting and the two men go tumbling to the ground. Before the enemy’s wolf daemon can jump in, Shula is on her, biting into the wolf’s neck hard enough to make her howl in response.

Falman doesn’t have the chance to see the end results. The rest of them turn into a predictable mess. One criminal starts shooting recklessly, nearly hitting Ayn and giving Falman a heart attack, but Havoc caps him in the knee and then tackles him to the ground. Hiroko is in front of Ayn in a flash, barking viciously at the man’s cougar daemon, though she’s bigger than her. When the two of them start to wrestle in a vicious match, Ayn bites at the cougar’s heels and tail, just enough to distract her so that Hiroko can get the upperhand.

One man is already down and unresponsive, his daemon no longer in sight. Falman vaguely recalls a gunshot from his left and realizes that Hawkeye must’ve shot him. Something shiny shimmers in the air. Dust - the leftovers of a daemon after they are dispersed when their human dies. Falman swallows. A tiny bit of horror settles in his gut, but he doesn’t have the time to process it. Little is known about Dust, his mind thinks dizzily. He ignores the thought.  _ No time.  _ That’s Ayn in his head, reminding him of the present.

Falman begins trying very fervently to convince the last criminal to put down her gun, but it proves difficult. She’s erratic and scared, but worse, she’s loyal to a fault to the leader of her group. Her daemon, a large boar, huffs and shakes his head as he stands in front of her protectively. “I don’t want to shoot you,” Falman says, even though the gun is a bit shaky in his hands.

“But he will!” his Ayn warns coldly. Will he? Falman blinks. He’s never shot an actual person before.

Her gun clicks as she stares at him with wide-eyed terror. He feels a brush of strength from Ayn, but it doesn’t feel like anything. Can he really pull the trigger?

A sudden roar, one of the loudest things Falman has ever heard in his life, erupts into the room, cutting through the tension like a chainsaw. It’s bold and wild, something from fiction more than real life. There’s no way that any daemon could be that loud. The roar itself is enough to make the woman scream and drop her gun, letting it bounce right off the back of her boar daemon, who itself staggers down and holds the side of its head to the floor, like it can drown out the sound with the concrete. Hiroko flattens her ears and steps off of the cougar daemon, who shudders and lies limp on the floor, mewling weakly. Breda’s Sumati, a normally bluff pitbull daemon, whimpers at his side. A shiver runs through Ayn, difficult as she may be, and she slinks back to his side.

Shula pads into the middle of the room, her brown eyes glaring at everyone in turn. The man’s wolf daemon lies on the ground still, breathing shallowly in a puddle of blood. For the most part, Shula still looks as pristine as she usually does, but there’s a bit of red on her snout as she licks at her sharp teeth. No one on the team, probably besides Mustang and Hawkeye, has heard Shula actually roar, but Falman figures that’s a good thing. The sound of her roar about made Falman run out the door. That roar said one thing:  _ death to anyone that ignores me _ .

It is easily one of the most terrifying things Falman has ever experienced in his life. Even Havoc, who acts like he can’t be thrown off by anything, looks shaken, sweaty and unsure.

The only ones in the room that don’t seem thrown for a loop are Wojciech and Hawkeye. The First Lieutenant’s lips are pressed into a thin line as she helps Mustang stand on his feet, one of his arms around her shoulder. Her gaze is locked onto the lion as she walks through the ground. All of the team knows about the Colonel and First Lieutenant’s...weird relationship when it comes to their daemons. Shula isn’t above laying her head on Hawkeye’s lap when Mustang is late on his paperwork or feels upset and Wojciech will rub his head against Mustang’s stomach whenever he seems unsure or does something particularly kind. So it makes sense to Falman that Hawkeye would be focused on Shula, who’s cold demeanor after letting out a horrific roar is concerning.

Wojciech, on the other hand, spits out a gnarled gun, useless after being worked over by the wolf, and then steps away from the hostage taker. Havoc glances about and then rushes over there to make sure the man is still under guard, despite the fact that he’s probably useless with his daemon being mauled so terribly. Shula is so worked up that she doesn’t even notice Wojciech’s presence at first until the wolf lightly presses into her.

“Get these assholes in cuffs,” Shula snarls. That Falman can make sense of. Like Mustang, she can get particularly vicious when she’s irritated, but it was that coldness that threw him off earlier. He pictures Mustang doing that same thing, but with his ignition gloves, and it makes him want to shudder. Cold anger is a scary thing. It’s not in him to be like that, but he can see it in Mustang and Shula. Strange since he’s the Flame Alchemist.

As Falman is busy arresting the woman who he nearly shot earlier, he can’t help but overhear the conversation between the wolf and lion daemon. He really isn’t trying to eavesdrop, but he’s the only one in hearing range, besides the woman who is too stunned to fight back. Even her daemon, though much larger than his, seems cowed by Ayn into behaving.

“You scared them,” Wojciech says, his golden eyes carefully assessing the other daemon.

Shula huffs. “Weak-minded individuals. Since when has taking a hostage ever worked?”

“I’m not talking about them and you know it,” Wojciech snaps. He’s never been afraid to be confrontational with anyone, not even Shula, who is larger than him. Falman has only seen a handful of daemons larger than Wojciech, but none bigger than Mustang’s Shula so far. He’s heard of people having bear daemons, but those are probably further up North where size matters. In the city, Havoc’s German Shepherd Hiroko is considered large. Shula and Wojciech are almost comical in their size.

After contemplating his words, Shula glances to the side where Hawkeye is looking over Mustang’s head wound. “Do you think they’ll be mad?”

“They can get over it,” Wojciech replies in a much gentler tone than Falman expected.

Falman realizes that Wojciech is not talking about Mustang and Hawkeye. He’s talking about them - the team and their daemons. Breda is already gone, Fuery having guided him out of the building to meet with the paramedics. But Falman can recall Sumati’s skittish movements around Shula as they left the room. Fuery’s Ada, a most willful otter, slipped through Fuery’s legs and kept bumping into him, like she was asking to be picked up. Falman’s Ayn doesn’t like being carried, but even she brushed against his legs a few times, needing physical reassurance. Hiroko is the most resilient, but she shoots wary glances towards the lion and wolf daemons before returning her attention to their captives.

“I’m not like her,” Ayn says out of nowhere. Falman glances down at her curiously. She tilts her head up at him and then pushes it against his leg once more. The action feels more shameful than content. “I’m not...wild.”

“She’s a lion,” Falman points out.

“I know, but…” If cats could frown, Falman is sure that Ayn would’ve been wearing one. “I forget sometimes.”

“Forget what?”

Ayn sighs. “That Shula can kill if she truly wants to. It doesn’t matter. I forget that.”

Falman looks over and considers the weak grin on Mustang’s face as he tries to tell Hawkeye that he’s fine. Those men are truly lucky that only one of them died. The circumstances could’ve been much different. It might not have been storming like mad outside. Mustang could have been wearing his ignition gloves. They could’ve snagged Hawkeye instead. Any of those things could have made the situation much more lethal.

Sometimes Falman forgets that same thing about the Colonel as well.


End file.
